


My Favorite Mistake

by exbex



Series: the Lew/Turnbull series [1]
Category: Californication, due South
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-03
Updated: 2010-08-03
Packaged: 2017-10-10 22:37:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/105142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exbex/pseuds/exbex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is the first in a series that features Lew/Turnbull.  This is the only fic in the series that isn't light-hearted sexy fun.</p>
    </blockquote>





	My Favorite Mistake

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first in a series that features Lew/Turnbull. This is the only fic in the series that isn't light-hearted sexy fun.

Ren woke up later than he was accustomed to. The sun was already very high, and streamed through the windows. The sun always shown here. He hated to complain about it, but he missed the snows and the crisp cold air of a Canadian winter. Even Chicago, with its stifling summers, had always offered the reprieve of autumn and winter and the change of seasons that let one know that life was carrying on at a steady pace.

There had been a party at the Consulate last night, and he had gotten home very late. Home was a slightly ironic word. This monstrosity of a house would never quite feel like home. He would much prefer a small, wooden cabin with a wood stove and a few necessities. Why Lew lived in such conspicuous opulence he'd never quite understand. He supposed, upon ruminating, that Lew's once much wilder lifestyle likely needed this kind of lavishness. And of course, Lew needed all these rooms to hide from the world. It was something that Ren could understand.

He found Lew on the veranda, hitting golf balls into Laurel Canyon, dressed in his peculiar (but, Ren decided by allowing himself to relish the sight), not unflattering ensemble of a kilt, motorcycle boots, and t-shirt. As far as vices went it was Lew's most peculiar but most innocuous, after, Ren mused, himself. He would never cease to be puzzled at Lew continuing to endure his presence, indeed, even choose him over the very attractive women who threw themselves at Lew (and Ren was quite certain that Lew could have his pick of any number of men, if he wanted).

Ren had asked him, once, why. Lew had just flashed that smile, the one that almost reaches his eyes, and pulled him down next to him on the bed, settling himself on top of him, nipping at his arms and shoulders and neck, murmuring Ren's name and all of the creative things he wished to do to him, and Ren had allowed himself to be distracted, not really wanting to hear the truth anyway.

"Where the hell were you last night?" Lew didn't look up from his swing.

"There was a party, at the Consulate. It ended quite late."

"I'm sure it kicked ass. What the hell are you still working there for? You have all my bank account numbers, probably written down somewhere safe, since your dyslexic little brain can't handle 'em all. It can't be because you're afraid of taking advantage; you're such a little slut for me."

Lew was placing another ball on the tee. The affection in his voice belied the words he used. True enough, that he had no need to work, as he had no expenses to speak of. But Ren had no desire to lay about Lew's mansion all day. He saved his earnings, hoping to buy a place back home whenever Lew finally tired of him. Perhaps he'd choose Whitehorse. Lew might like Whitehorse, Ren mused. And Ren could take him away from all of this.

It was a nice little fantasy, anyway.

"Come back to bed." He closed the distance between them and put a hand on Lew's hip, sliding his fingers beneath the cotton of Lew's t-shirt. Lew grinned at him, nearly a leer, and Ren blushed in spite of himself. Lew seemed to relish inspiring that reaction in him. Ren kissed him, tasting cigarettes and alcohol, and shivered in the mid-day sun.


End file.
